


When You Know Yourself

by Atunenamedclara



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Anger, Canon-Typical Violence, Control, Dom/sub, F/F, Non-Graphic Violence, Sexual Content, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-16 09:54:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7263199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atunenamedclara/pseuds/Atunenamedclara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when the controller gets controlled?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Control

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, I will admit, this is a new one for me. I usually stay away from this sort of fic, both writing and reading it. BUT Bonnie fascinates me, her relationship with Clara has the potential to be fascinating, due to Clara's inbuilt tendency to control mixed with the fact that Bonnie is for all intents and purposes, evil. And also last night at 1am I may have been persuaded by a couple of friends to do this (they better damn well leave me a kudos!)  
> I've tagged the work with non con warnings just because I don't know where it will lead in terms of that, but at the moment it looks like I may need the warning, just incase.  
> Please feel free to leave feedback, or tweet me on @findmethestars  
> Shira xx

_Click_  
_Click_  
_Click_  
_Click_  
The red soles of my shoes tap a beat against the concrete floor. The sound bounces off white washed walls and echoes back at me, ringing in my ears.  
I turn a corner.  
My heels click a beat for another 6 feet or so.  
And stop.  
Here she is.  
The prisoner sits, sullen in her cell, head resting against the wall, legs folded underneath her, the fire in her eyes not yet dimmed by the months of captivity.  
Her mouth too is just as silent as ever. I know the prisoner almost more than she knows herself and yet even I could not have predicted the several months of silence I have been treated to.  
Honestly, I really did expect better from this one. She had seemed so...promising.  
And yet she thought she was being brave or bold or some other pathetic human notion, designed to make the weak feel less weak. I shook my head in disgust at her and pushed a plate of food through the bars.  
"Eat" I command calmly.  
She stares up at me, trying to figure me out. What game will I play today? What will I do to her next?  
I unlock the cell door and walk over to sit on the bench beside her.  
I gaze at her calmly. She looks back at me, quirking and eyebrow ever so slightly. I nod my head towards the direction of the cell door. She looks. Her mouth visibly gapes in surprise.  
I have left it open.  
"Call it my little gift to you. I'm bored of you. You're no fun." I yawn, picking a stray piece of dust off the tight leather of my trousers.  
Her eyes dart around like a feral cat, unsure what to do next. Is this a trap? Is it a game? Will I grab her back?  
"Relax" I laugh, leaning back. "If you walk out that cell door, I give you my word I will not call you back"  
She opens her mouth, vocal chords rusty after months of silence.  
"Are you...you're sure? I can...I can go?"  
" _GO_ Clara. I'm bored of you, you're boring me"  
I yawn, obviously, right in her face, gazing deep into her eyes.  
She runs a shaky hand through her unkept hair and stands up, leaning against the wall for support.  
"I...um...thank you" she chokes out as she turns to leave.  
I click my fingers.  
"Clara"  
She turns to look at me, distrust easy to read in her face.  
"If you ever need anything, please feel free to call me" I smile at her sweetly, the picture of innocence.  
She shakes her head and runs out the room before I can change my mind. I hear the door upstairs slam shut. Silly, foolish little girl.  
"She'll be back" I tell the stale air "they always are"  
\- - -  
I return to my living areas and place my shoes neatly by the polished oak door. Hanging my knee length waistcoat on the coat stand I make my way into my bedroom. I peel off my leather trousers and slip my chiffon blouse off my cool smooth skin. I survey myself in the mirror and laugh sweetly. Oh I do love the human form. So...delicious. So much fun to be had.  
Removing my hair from its elastic I let it fall freely around my head, the sharp edge of the cut making my jawline appear stronger than ever.  
_She's a pretty one, that Clara_ , I muse to myself as a I peel off black lace underwear, looking at myself coolly in the mirror as I do so. There's something so enticing about being watched, don't you think?  
Stepping into the bathroom with its high arched ceiling and marbled floor, I plug my iPod into the speaker system. As I let hot water run into the bath I flick through music, deciding on a rich classical piece, full of violin and deep velvety piano notes.  
I slide into the bath, closing my eyes and letting the water wash over me, cleaning off the heat of the day and the stench of the cells. I relax, blissfully aware that I have set a wheel into motion and it won't stop rolling until I have achieved what I set out to do.  
I have established control. And although the child may think she's free of it, she isn't aware I have just begun.  
Cat.  
Mouse.  
Cat grabs mouse.  
Mouse escapes.  
Cat gets clever.  
Mouse gets caught.  
Game.  
1-0 to cat.  
Just as I am redressing in my room, black skintight denim in place of the earlier leather, I hear a knock at my door. I pad calmly over to it and lift the latch, already knowing who's going to be on the other side.  
She's showered, and she looks less feral then she has in months. Her unkempt hair has been scraped back into a ponytail, and stinking cotton t-shirt had been replaced by soft cashmere and well washed jeans.  
She looks like a free woman. I voice as much to her. She flinches.  
"I wasn't going to come back" she starts, her voice smooth and even "I was going to run away, I was going to leave the country and never come back, I was going to change my name in-case you ever came looking for me, which, admittedly, was a bad idea because you are me. But I was going to do all those things"  
"Why are you telling me this?" I keep my voice even as I sweep my hair off my face and tie it back.  
"Because...because I need to know!" Her voice raises, her emotions all too easy to read.  
"Why did you do it?!" She exclaims wildly "why did you let me go?!"  
"I had my reasons" I reply silkily, turning away from the door.  
A hand grabs my shoulder and forced me around, my face inches from hers. I find myself staring into deep eyes, emotions swirling around them so visible, so delicious.  
"No!" She shouts, stepping closer to me "tell me why! Tell me! It doesn't make sense! Nothing does!"  
I look her in the eye, sizing her up. Without my heels on we are exactly the same height, down to the last millimetre. Our eyes mirror each other, hers a whirling pool of panic and barely contained anger whilst mine are calm, cool and detached. My lips are quirked into a cruel smile and hers are set in a thin line, trying desperately not to twitch as she struggles to keep herself together.  
"Because Clara Oswald..." I start. I pause, building up suspense, noting how her breath hitches ever so slightly in her chest. "Because I knew you would come back for me. I knew you couldn't leave this well enough alone."  
  
She draws her hand back and slaps me round the face solidly. Her other hand reaches for my shirt collar and grabs me in, until are faces are practically touching, her nose centimetres from mine.  
"How. Dare. You" she spits each word in my face, making sure they drip with venom. "You play with me like I am a toy. You keep me locked up for MONTHS starving! Alone! In that putrid cell! And then one day you let me go, you let me walk out, free at last. But oh no, that can't be the end of it, it never is  with you, you play games with my mind, until the last second, placing doubts in me that weren't there before, that never would have been there! And then I come looking for answers, against my better judgment I think maybe! Maybe you'll be helpful, tell me why you did it, but you don't! You keep! Playing! Games! Why??"  
  
She breathes out heavily, anger replaced by sadness and a look of confusion.  
I let my smile slide gently off my face and replace it with a calculated look. Just the right amount of scorn, hatred, disgust and amusement.

“Because Clara Oswald, I like control. And _you_ my dear, like being controlled. So this is going to be rather fun, isn’t it?”


	2. Power

_“Because Clara Oswald, I like control. And_ _you_ _my dear, like being controlled. So this is going to be rather fun, isn’t it?”_

The girl tilts her head to the side, looking at me. The tears that were swimming in her eyes are gone, replaced by a look of bewilderment.

“I _don’t_ like being controlled.” she chokes out.

Ah. I have pushed a button there. Miss Oswald, as I well know, prides herself on being in control and thinks that letting that slip, even for a second, is a sign of weakness. She thinks I don’t know that. Foolish child.

“Well that may be true” I concede, nodding my head once “but the fact still remains that I _do_ like control and you _will_ do as I say.”

“Why?” The fire is back in her eyes once more.

“Because” I lower my voice dangerously, eyes smoking as I stare her down “Because Clara, I have the power to make you bend to my will, to make you do everything I ask of you, everything I demand of you. I can make you scream, I can make you cry, and I can make you fall at my feet begging for more. I can do all of that and still you will protest that you dislike control, but you will keep coming back to me.”

Her breath catches in her throat ever so slightly. A small flush spreads across her cheek and she lowers her head to hide it.

“You hold no power over me” she mutters sullenly.

“Oh Clara, I hold more power over your head than you could ever possibly imagine you sweet naive child”

She rounds on me, eyes blazing, breath coming fast as her chest rises and falls, displaying the extent to which I have set her heart racing. I smirk.

“Do _not_ call me naive. You have done many things in your lifetime Bonnie. I have lived less but I have seen more. You tell me I am a child, you hone that fact in to me like your life depends on it. Maybe I am a child. That remains to be seen. But naive? Oh I don’t think so. I have run faster, fought harder, shouted louder than you _ever_ will in your pathetic, tiny little life. Oh you think you’re so powerful. And yet you need to lock me up to establish that. You play games with my mind to bring yourself a feeling of control, you are pathetic!”

Her words fall out her mouth, she can barely contain them. She pauses to catch her breath before continuing.

“This control you wish to display?  How will you do it? With mind games and trickery? Will you lock me up? Will you starve me? Will you beat me to a pulp and then put yourself inside of me and shake me to my core? Because that isn’t control Zygon _,_ that isn’t power! What you are is WEAK, pathetic, _embarrassing_. Tell me Zygon, do you know how to _really_ control someone?”

Her breath comes in bursts, she wipes her hands on her jeans, her eyes dark with something unreadable.

 _I have snapped something in the child_ I muse.

I bring my eyes up to hers, raking them slowly over her body. I lick my lips, taking care to skim every curve of her petite figure, undressing her in my mind’s eye.

I open my mouth to speak and drop my pitch two paces, knowing the reaction I will gain for my troubles.

“Tell me...Clara, what is control?”I purr, eyes flashing dangerously.

She shifts in her spot, hands by her side, feet firmly planted on the floor. She is establishing her domain. Good. I knew I had chosen well with this one.

“Control is...” She chooses her words carefully, rolling them around in her mouth before she speaks. She bites her lip carefully, velvet pink between white shards. “Control is...establishing you have power over the other person, not by force, but by their admission, by their choice. Any other form of control is weakness. But control which is handed to you by the person you are controlling? That’s real. Only when I have granted you that control over me, may you say you have power.”

I laugh. The child is insane. But of course I already knew that, I did after all choose her body to make my own.

“You’re wrong Clara”

She ignores my jab and instead takes a step closer to me. She circles me like a bird, observing me from my stance to my breathing pattern. She moves in closer.

“The funny thing about control is that you never quite know when you’re going to lose it” She breathes through parted lips, words dripping with layers of unspoken tension.

I step closer towards her, breathing softly. She steps back. I step forward again. She takes a step back.

“You lead a curious dance Miss Oswald” I keep my voice light, conversational. I will not let her see the power she holds over me.

“And so the game changes” she whispers, taking a step towards me.

Cat.

Mouse.

One all.

The game continues.

I dare not breathe as she takes another step towards me.

Her lips crash into mine, soft pink on deep red, hands run their way through my hair, pulling it loose from its style. My back crashes into the wall as she pushes me harder and faster, desperately trying to sate herself with my lips. How long we stay like this I do not know. But we are both gasping when we pull apart, fire in our eyes that is not caused by anger but by a deep need and lust for more.

She pulls back and puts distance between us, the wild look in her eyes dies down to be replaced by a look I have seen far too many times whilst looking in the mirror. Clara Oswald had a plan and I had played right into it.

“Control?” She said sweetly “All yours dear.”

She closes the door behind her, leaving nothing but my breath echoing in my ears.


	3. Patience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I knowwww this chapter update was a LONG time coming, but I was away and busy and etc etc. Anyway it's here now so enjoy!  
> As always please feel free to leave comments below or tweet me on @findmethestars  
> Enjoyyy!  
> Shira X

Four days. Four.  
That's how long it took for her to contact me after she slipped out my door, leaving me dazed, confused and impressed.  
I must say, I had underestimated the girl.  
She had changed the game more than I anticipated. By my own careful calculations I should have had total control over her by this point, she should have been screaming my name. What I hadn't anticipated was total silence from her end and uncertainty from mine.  
I had never before played this waiting game and I wasn't quite sure I liked it.  
My patience lasted all of 24 hours before I was pacing around the inside of my house like a caged animal.  
I debated leaving the house, running across the city, grabbing Miss Oswald and taking back control. But something kept pulling me back, making me wait for her to make the next move.  
Was it curiosity?  
Or was it simply the thrill of the unknown?  
Whatever it was, it was starting to get old.  
  
On the fourth day I awoke to find a cream envelope pushed under my door. I opened it curiously. It contained nothing more than a piece of paper with the curved script telling me to "wear something nice. Be ready by seven."  
I smiled to myself and slipped the card into the dustbin.  
"You think it's that easy Miss Oswald?" I purred "if you want me, you're going to have to try a bit harder than that"  
  
If the game I was playing with Clara was going to continue the way it had started, I needed to establish my grounds early on. She took control of me when I wasn't expecting it, switching the game play. In return, I had to take it from her, allowing her to play straight into my hands. As completely frustrating and unnecessary this extra step seemed to be, if I didn't carry it out the game would be over before it had even become fun.  
  
On the fifth day Clara left a note with a map attached under my door.  
  
On the sixth, she put two notes through.  
  
On the seventh, she put a note through my door every hour on the hour. I could see her lurking around outside each time she did it.  
  
On the eighth day she simply leant on my doorbell.  
  
"What?!" I glared at her, arms folded across my chest. It was 7am, I wanted my sleep, and I did not relish the presence of the person I was trying to ignore.  
  
"You're ignoring me" she stayed calmly, eyeing me up and down. A grin flickered on her lips but died quickly when she met my fiery gaze.  
  
"And here I was under the impression that you were clever Miss Oswald" I paused and looked her squarely in the eye before continuing.  
"When somebody ignores you it isn't generally because they wish to see you. It's because they would rather you STAY. AWAY."  
  
I expected her to step back at this point and relinquish her pathetic notion that she had any sort of chance at control but she stepped forward instead.  
  
"Yeah well the problem with me is that I've never been very good at following instructions. You of all people should know that." She winked sweetly.  
  
I saw red at this. How dare she. How dare she think she had any sort of control, any sort of CHANCE at control, any chance at all of winning me over and making me hers. The stupid ignorant child. She should know better than to play games with me, because playing games with me can never end well. For the other person at least. I leant forward and grabbed her by her collar.  
"Do you have ANY idea what you've just started Clara?!" I hiss in her ear "you stupid incompetent child! You think THIS is control? You think you can turn up and knock on my door and that's it?! You have no idea! There's a reason I always win and I think that reason has made itself abundantly clear. Do NOT play games with me Clara Oswald or you will live to regret the day you were born." I slam her into the wall behind her and turn my back. I walk calmly into my kitchen where I press the controls to lock the front door, effectively cutting off any escape route.  
  
When I reenter my hallway Clara is sitting on the floor staring up at me. Her breath is coming in short bursts and her eyes flash with barely contained anger. I stalk back over to her and bend down until I am at eye level with her. I lean in towards her ear, letting my lips brush her lobe. My hair brushes gently against her cheek, contrasting the sharp atmosphere of the room.  
"You want control Clara Oswald?" I breathe softly, dangerously even. "Well then come and get it."  
I drag her up to standing and produce a pair of cuffs from the back pocket of my jeans.  
She rolls her eyes almost imperceptibly and holds out her hands reluctantly.  
"Not this game again" she sighs. I slap her. Hard.  
"You ASKED for this game" I snap as I propel her towards the stairs leading down to the cell.

“I was prepared to play nice” I hiss in her ear as I sort through my keys “I let you go, I let you walk away, I let you make the choice to come back here and ask for more. I _knew_ you would do it. THAT was your control, THAT was your choice. But the _moment_ you came back to me you relinquished that power. It is MINE now.” I slam her down on the hard wooden bench.

“You should have known when to leave it well enough alone” I tossed over my shoulder as I closed the cell door behind me.

Game. Set. Match.


End file.
